


Spinners, Books, and Fairy Dust

by TardisInWonderland



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisInWonderland/pseuds/TardisInWonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Midstorm Prompted (as her Christmas Challenge Prize): Rumbelle news years eve at midnight, you can write or create whatever you want with it. Thanks lovely!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spinners, Books, and Fairy Dust

“Come on, Belle, it’ll be fun.”

“No.”

Ruby was trying yet again to get Belle to go out and socialize. This particular attempt involved a big New Year’s Eve party for the book publishing company that Belle and Ruby’s tentative boyfriend, Archie Hopper, worked for. They were allowed one guest, and since Ruby was going… sooner or later she would drag Belle into coming with her.

“Please? You can’t just sit here and ring in the New Year all alone!” Ruby was whining in a way that Belle knew meant she was flashing puppy dog eyes at her. She didn’t look up from her book, instead tucking her knees up a little more firmly and settling further into her lumpy sofa.

“I can and I will.” Chicago, where Ruby was a dancer in whatever theatre productions she could get a job in and Belle… Belle did whatever she could. Her official job was a much lower secretarial position in the same publishing company as Archie, but sometimes she did odd things. Her stories were occasionally published in local magazines and smaller newspapers. When she could, she worked with costuming for theaters, and though she liked to act and sing every single audition that Ruby dragged her to had ended badly (badly meaning throwing up in the bathroom either before or after, and once running off the stage in a fuss).

Belle had been with her father and sisters for Christmas, but her family wasn’t the happiest and she’d decided to head back to Chicago for New Year’s. In her own way, she was still moping about it, and also in her own way she wanted to be alone to mope, not at a party. Besides, it was only showing off to the public how well the company had done that year. She didn’t want to talk to any of the big business heads or major stockholders. She’d only make a fool of herself.

“No, you damn well will _not_!” Ruby grabbed Belle’s book from her hands, ignoring the brunette’s indignant cry, and dragged her down the apartment’s short hallway. “I’ve got everything picked out for you. Get dressed- Archie will be here any minute.”  
With that she slammed the door.

“Still not going!” Belle shouted back. She picked a different book from the shelf and flopped onto the bed for some more reading. This argument would just have to run the usual course.

“Not even if Spinner shows up?” Ruby spoke through the door. Belle immediately looked up, interested. R D Spinner was one of Belle’s favorite authors, and all the more fascinating because he was somewhat of a recluse. In fact… no one was actually sure that R D Spinner even was a _he_. He kept himself away from the cameras and the media, and he only ever gave written interviews. The publishers claimed the mystery was good for business, but Belle liked to think the author was as stubborn as she was.

“He won’t be there,” she scoffed, trying to convince herself as much as Ruby. She’d only been to one company parties, back before Spinner signed on, so how would she know either way?

“Archie said the company invited all their major authors…”

“That doesn’t mean he’ll show up!”

“You never know… and hey, if you aren’t there you _definitely_ won’t see him,” Ruby said in a singsong voice. It only took a few moments for Belle to make her decision.

“Fine,” she huffed. Ruby knew her too well.

Belle sighed, turning towards the garment bag hanging from the top of the closet door. What did Ruby have picked out for her this time?  
Never trusting her roomie to pick out an outfit for a part, Ruby always managed to come up with something atrocious that she called “high fashion.” For the most part, Belle’s wardrobe was made up of altered thrift store clothes and upcycled items (the perks of being able to sew when you ran on a low budget), but she did have two very nice dresses from Ruby. One was an eggshell blue summer dress, and another a deep red dress for winter. Upon unzipping the bag, she thought she might have three.

She recognized the item immediately- this was a dress from one of the smaller productions she’d been a costumer for… how Ruby had managed to get her hands on it was impossible to say, but it was a perfect fit. Ashley Boyd, who had worn the dress in the show, was exactly the same size as Belle.

The dress was pale gold, the neckline decent but off the shoulder, fitted to the waist and slyly cut to fan out into yards of fabric in the skirt. Belle managed to get into it without needed help for the zipper, and found that hem came to mid-calf.

“Well?” Ruby called. “I hear rustling! Do you have it on or what?”

Belle rolled her eyes and opened the door. Ruby’s already bright smile widened and she nodded, pleased.

“I like it. What do _you_ think?” Ruby asked.

“Blissfully 1950s,” Belle giggled. “It’s beautiful, but… how?!”

“I may have stopped by the theater today and mentioned how I wanted something pretty for their wonderful, underpaid costumer… they said to take it as your Christmas bonus.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Belle threw her arms around Ruby’s neck, laughing.

“You’re welcome,” she sounded pleased beyond belief, and immediately started fussing with Belle’s hair until Archie arrived.

 

X

 

When they finally made it to the party, Belle slipped away from the lovebirds long enough to find a place to be alone. She wasn’t holding out any hope for Spinner, and with Archie around there was no way that Ruby would go looking for her, at least not for a while.

Soon enough she found a series of anterooms along the side of the main ballroom area, and crept along quietly, looking for an unoccupied space. Most were full- men playing pool or chatting, women gossiping, and more than one couple making use of their tongues in ways other than talking… The last, thankfully, was unoccupied except for a small sofa in the corner, a few chairs, and a gas log fire. Belle tucked her legs up under her skirt and curled into a corner of the sofa, pulling a thin paperback novel from her clutch. She never left home without reading material. Tonight’s companion was Fahrenheit 451, one of the only novels small enough to fit in the purse she was carrying.

“It was a pleasure to burn.” 

The clock ticked on in the corner.

 _“I’m seventeen and I’m crazy. My uncle says the two always go together. When people ask your age, he said, always say seventeen and insane.”_  
She was dimly aware of chatter outside.

_“There must be something in books, something we can’t imagine, to make a woman stay in a burning house; there must be something there. You don’t stay for nothing.”_

Vaguely, her hand traced circles on the arm of the sofa.

 _“Why is it,” he said, one time, at the subway entrance, “I feel I’ve known you so many years?”_  
“Hello?”

 _“Because I like you,” she said, “and I don’t want anything from you.”_  
“Oh!”

Belle looked up from the pages suddenly, her mind groggy from being pulled out of one world and into another so quickly and harshly. A man was standing just inside the door, staring at her and muttering some kind of apology.

“I was just looking for a quiet place- I didn’t realize this room was occupied,” he stammered. Of course- she must have surprised him. The sofa sat on the same wall as the door, so it would be impossible to see her from that angle. He was alone, that was certain.

“No, it’s alright,” Belle assured him. “I was looking for somewhere quiet, too.” As he stepped a little closer, she got her first good look at him: medium height, thin, shoulder-length hair and walking with a cane. Strong jaw. Sharp eyes. She gestured for him to sit beside her.

“Hiding from the party?” he asked, following her motion and taking a seat.

“Yes,” she admitted. “You as well, I take it?”

“Well, with this leg I’m not much for dancing, and the cameras demolish any illusion of privacy.” Even though Belle had given up any hope of seeing Spinner, the paparazzi surely hadn’t and were stationed anywhere and everywhere imaginable with cameras and notepads. It was very annoying to anyone trying to get a moment to themselves, which is why she had retreated into the anterooms in the first place.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not much of a dancer myself,” she chuckled. “The last time I tried, I wound up tripping over my partner and we went careening into the dessert table!”

“I’ve always preferred the company of the written word, myself,” the man said with a smile, casting a meaningful glance at her book. Belle’s fingers stroked the pages lovingly, as if the novel were a child in need of comfort.

“Yes… books are much kinder than people,” she sighed, thinking of her family. They were fine on their own, but when together they squabbled and fought and generally made the biggest mess possible of things. Books were the best escape- always had been.

The sympathetic expression on the man’s face shook her from her thoughts, and she finally thought to introduce herself.

“My name’s Belle, by the way. Belle French.”

“Adrian Gold,” he said softly. Belle stiffened immediately. She’d heard of him, if only in rumors and hushed conversations. No one knew exactly what he did, but everyone seemed to know how disagreeable he was.

“I see my reputation precedes me,” Gold sighed. Belle bit her lip; she didn’t have the heart to argue. “Pray tell, Miss French, if you plan to sit in this room reading for the entire evening, why did you come in the first place?”

“I was forced.” Belle rolled her eyes. “My friend and her boyfriend are off somewhere around here, and she thinks I need to get out more. I’d rather be at home alone, or staying with Henry- he’s this little boy I babysit sometimes.” Why was she telling him this? Why bother?

_Because, Belle, there is finally someone willing to listen._

“So you like children?” he raised his eyebrows, suddenly interested.

“Yes- why?”

“I’m only making a necessary appearance here,” Mr. Gold explained, “At the first opportunity I’m sneaking away to somewhere rather more important. I could use some help, if you’re willing?”

As eager as she would have been to get away on any other circumstances, Belle was uneasy. Why go somewhere with a man she’d only just met? She didn’t even know where they were going!

Then again… it wouldn’t hurt to ask, now would it?

“Where to?”

 

X

 

Belle managed to slip away and find Ruby, mentioning that she was making off for the night with a guy she met. Ruby had seemed surprised, but promised to  
cover if anyone asked her whereabouts.

“Where to” turned out to be the Chicago Public Library, where a different sort of New Year’s party was happening among the bookshelves. It happened that Mr. Gold was a rather important patron of the library, and he made appearances at every major event. They took a taxi there, conversing all through the half hour drive.

“So… you’re a major library patron and I’ve never even heard your name?” Belle asked.

“I like to keep my contributions quiet. My son loved the place, so most of what I do is in honor of him.”

“How old is he?” Belle imagined a younger boy, but that assumption was entirely wrong.

“Oh, he’s grown now. Off in New York doing something- it changes every week,” Gold shrugged. “His mother and I split when he was just a tiny thing, and then she disappeared shortly after. It’s been the two of us ever since.” He sounded so sad that Belle wanted to hug him, but she thought that would probably be breaking a personal space boundary for someone she’d only just met.

“At least he still has a father who cares about him,” she said, “that counts for more than you might think.”

In Belle’s little, unstable family, a caring parent was what was needed most, or rather another caring parent. After her mother had died, her father struggled to support his three daughters, and it had put a strain on their relationship that lasted to this day. Mo French was a wonderful, loving father, but he never had the chance to show it as much as he’d have liked. Working long hours and strange shifts meant that no one knew when he would be home, and Belle and her sisters had practically raised themselves. With any other family it might make them closer… but not with this one.

“So,” Gold cleared his throat, eager for a change of subject, “What’s your role in Never Land Publishing?”

“Secretary,” Belle shrugged. Her position was so low that she suspected Ruby or Archie had done some wheedling for the invitation to tonight’s party. “I technically only work part-time, though. Never Land is my steady income source when I can’t find a theatre job.”

“You act?” Mr. Gold sounded surprised.

“I wish. I’m too clumsy and nervous to even get through an audition, but I work in costuming regularly. I write sometimes, too,” she blushed. “Not anything major, but I just like telling stories.”

“Have you published anything?” He folded his hands in his lap, listening attentively.

“A few stories here and there.”

“You’ve got to start somewhere.”

Around that time the taxi pulled up to the Chicago Public Library.

As they passed through security, Belle became uneasy at the scene before her. It was almost a mirror image of the party they’d left- people milling about and drinking champagne, talking quietly. However, as Mr. Gold walked through she noticed that there were more smiles and the atmosphere was infinitely more relaxed. People waved as they passed, and though he nodded or waved back, they didn’t stop until they reached the staircase.

“All the proceeds from the New Year’s Eve benefit are split between local charities,” he explained quietly. Belle followed Mr. Gold up the steps until he reached his destination- the children’s room.

The decorators had outdone themselves.

With a combination of Christmas lights, green fabric, and some inventive cardboard cutouts, the entire room had been made to look like a forest. There was a dramatically oversized storybook on one table, the cover proclaiming “Once Upon A Time…” to anyone nearby. A few adults sat around to supervise, but Belle supposed that most of their parents were upstairs. When a few of the kids caught sight of Mr. Gold, they rushed over in waves. Belle couldn’t help but smile at how his face lit up. He wasn’t at all the stuffy person she’d imagined every time someone spoke his name in the office.

“Hi, Mr. Gold!”

“Happy New Year!”

“Who’s she?”

“She’s a princess, silly!”

The last comment came from a little girl clutching a teddy bear, gazing up at Belle in awe.

“Well, of course she is!” Gold said. “It wouldn’t be a fairy tale without a princess, would it?”

Belle spent the rest of the evening alternatively reading stories to the children and conversing with Mr. Gold. She didn’t find out much about his personal life, but they could have chattered on for hours about books if they’d wanted to. All the children seemed to get on with him so well, and she wondered if it might be because he missed his son so much. Everyone around the office knew him as a grouchy Scot, but here… it was completely and totally different.

Around half past eleven most of the parents rounded up their children to ring in the new year together upstairs. Belle and Gold had no children, and though Mr. Gold seemed to know many of the other guests, he opted to stay with Belle.

Staring out one of the large hallway windows, looking for constellations in a sky that was hopelessly too bright to see them, Mr. Gold and Belle waited. He pulled out a pocket watch, patiently watching the last few seconds tick past.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year, Miss French.”

“Happy New Year.”

While cheers were surely going on elsewhere in the building, Belle’s heartbeat seemed to echo in the silence. There was something beautiful about it, having silence as the first thing in the new year- so open, so peaceful, so blank… so ready for a new beginning.

But where did she want to start?

Someone had once told her that the best place to begin was where you already were, and, in that moment… Belle believed that they were entirely right.

On impulse, she leaned over and drew Mr. Gold, who was actually not-so-grouchy, very intellectual, and much too gentlemanly to indulge in this sort of thing, into a quick kiss. He looked shocked, but not… not unhappy.

“Happy New Year.”


End file.
